


A Visit from Captain America

by Stillsixpm



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: 2019 ShieldShock Christmas Fic Exchange, F/M, Gift Fic, Non-Linear Narrative, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 9,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22047064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stillsixpm/pseuds/Stillsixpm
Summary: The first time he barged in on her life, she could have bludgeoned him with her printer and not felt any remorse. Somewhere along the way, she discovered that she couldn't live without him.And they celebrate Christmas, too.Or, how a 700 word Christmas gift became the time travel fic that no one asked for.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers
Comments: 80
Kudos: 227
Collections: 2019 ShieldShock Christmas Fic Exchange





	1. Prologue: All Snug in their Beds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Em_Jaye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Em_Jaye/gifts).



> Chapter titles taken from “A Visit from St. Nicholas” by Clement Clarke Moore.

The Sanctum  
177A Bleeker St.  
New York City, New York  
December 20, 2014

Natasha took point as they made they way through the rendezvous spot; Dr. Strange was _her_ contact, and this domain was familiar to her. Something about the last minute request that Steve accompany her made him wary of the sorcerer's motives. He remained on high alert as they rounded every dark corner and passed each suspicious looking statue. And in this Sanctum, there were plenty of both.   
  
"You seem a little spooked, Steve. Are you afraid of a few antiques?" Her expression betrayed nothing, but he heard the amusement in her tone.   
  
He eyed a gleaming--not at all rusty with disuse--flail displayed in a glass case. "Is that what these are? For a place of refuge, it sure does pack quite an arsenal."   
  
Natasha hummed what could have been either agreement or denial. "Relics, is what they're referred to. And they're not all weapons."   
  
"Enough of them are." This mission was supposed to be strictly non-combat, but something had him on edge. He tried to lighten the mood. "I guess it’s not all weapons. There’s the occasional vase and Christmas ornament." He gestured to a case containing a man-sized urn beside a small, red sphere.   
  
She nodded at the case containing both. "I'd be careful of that ornament. Dr. Strange said there's some kind of spell on it."   
  
He was unimpressed. "It's real pretty. Maybe Strange'll loan you a nice necklace just like it for the holiday party."   
  
"A party you will also be attending, yes? Perhaps Dr. Strange has something he can loan you as well."   
  
Steve grimaced. "Like an invisibility cloak?"   
  
"So you just hide from women now? Was that your plan for the party?"   
  
"Actually, I wasn't planning on going," he admitted honestly.   
  
"This one will be different," Natasha vowed. They approached a real showy set of double doors.   
  
He opened and held one for her, motioning for her to go on ahead. "How's that?” he asked, his tone dripping with skepticism.   
  
Pausing in the entryway, she informed him, "I received a very interesting call the other day. There is someone who is _very_ eager to meet you."   
  
"Let me guess: another heiress wants to sweep me off my feet and make all my dreams come true?” He knew he wasn’t going to get an answer when she just smirked and walked in. He called after her, “I don't see how it'll be any different from last year's.” When he didn’t receive a response, he burst into the room. “Nat?" His vision flooded with red and then darkness.

\-----

Culver University, Undergraduate Housing  
Willowdale, West Virginia  
December 1, 2010  
  
Just outside a small apartment right off of Culver University campus, there was a disturbance at 3AM. It was one of the worst snow storms the area had reported in the last ten years. As a freighter truck was passing through the intersection, a red light momentarily blinded the driver, who collided head on with something big.  
  
But when he exited his truck to examine the damage, the street was empty, and the snow immaculate. When he wrote his vehicle damage claim later that week, the driver made sure to indicate the poor visibility due to severe weather as well as the heavy snowfall that covered the tracks of whatever animal he had likely hit.   
  
Inside of her apartment, Darcy Lewis slept on, unaware.


	2. When What to My Wondering Eyes Should Appear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hands off my bread!

Culver University, Undergraduate Housing  
Willowdale, West Virginia  
December 12, 2010  
  
It was way too early for this.  
  
All she had wanted were a few solid hours of sleep before she went to her morning shift at the coffee shop. The garbage paper she had thrown together last night might let her squeeze by with a C+ in her Bio class. She just needed to pass the class to fulfill the last of her required science credits.   
  
It wasn't too much to ask for; Jenny was a good roommate, but lately took advantage of the season to get extra merry with the Psi Upsilon guys over in Fraternity Row. Suffice it to say, Darcy's cranky ass did not appreciate being woken up by some large, loud frat-guy nosing through her kitchen. Undaunted by her overall lack of cheer year-round, Jenny often reminded her the importance of being neighborly, no matter that the frat houses were on the other side of campus. Neighbor or not, it was 3:50AM and Darcy was not filled with the Christmas spirit.   
  
“Hey!” Her voice croaked, taking away from the menacing vibe she was going for.   
  
He turned and had the gall to smile at her, arms laden with---was that the last of her focaccia bread? This guy _had_ to go. “Hi, I didn’t mean to wake you!” The dude was way too perky at such a godawful hour. She figured he couldn’t see her that well either because he was standing in her kitchen with the lights off like a real creep but she mustered up her grumpiest scowl for his sake nonetheless.  
  
“Do you know what time it is?”   
  
He dumped the stolen goods onto the counter. “Not sure.” He held up his wrist sheepishly. “No watch.” What. A. Dolt.   
  
She drew in a deep breath to give him the browbeating of the century. His ears would ring for the rest of his life, rendering him unable to play football or lacrosse. Probably football--he had that All-American look, from what she could make out in the dark. In any case, she hated it.  
  
“I had some ideas that I wanted to leave for you,” he said, hopelessly clueless as to the danger he was in. “I jotted them down in case I wouldn’t catch you before you woke up.”   
  
She glanced at whatever note he had likely written in crayon only to feel her gorge rise. “Was that the last of my printer paper?” The exact 14 pages she had been saving to print her final paper on?  
  
He had the decency to look embarrassed. “Was it the last? I wanted to look for some more, but I didn’t want to wake you or Jane with the noise.”  
  
“You already accomplished that by raiding my fridge. And who’s Jane? You mean, my roommate, Jenny?” A real class act, this one. She flipped the pages he had wasted over to see if she could at least recycle them. Both sides were filled with random notes and diagrams. She carefully counted out the remaining usable pages and prayed.  
  
“Jenny?” Frat guy was starting to look a little uncertain, but she didn’t feel like babysitting and left him leaning at the counter, food forgotten. Maybe she could head out extra early to the 24-hour Kinko’s before her shift started. The intruder looked about her apartment as if seeing it for the first time. “Where are we?” And she was over this.  
  
“Dude, I really don’t have time for this.” She scooped up all of her precious food and deposited them right back into their proper places. “But if you don’t even have the decency to learn my roommate’s name after hooking up with her, then you’re not allowed fridge privileges.”  
  
“We're not linear.” He sounded genuinely shocked.   
  
“Wow, that sucks. Get out,” she deadpanned, unsympathetic. He didn’t resist as she ushered him out the door.  
  
“Wait, Darcy,” he attempted.   
  
“Do I know you?” Irritation started to collect in her migraine spot.  
  
“I’m--”  
  
“I don’t care,” she cut him off, slamming the door in his face. It was late--or early--but he was a big guy and he could take care of himself. She had a class to barely pass and a job to get to.  
  
She turned before she could see the flash of light pass under the door. 

  
  



	3. He Whistled and Shouted and Called Them by Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second time he showed up, she was no more prepared, but at least she had a witness.

Ravenswood, West Virginia  
Just off-campus of Culver University  
February 4, 2011  
  
  
Anyone could see that the date was not going well.   
  
The man sitting across from her hadn't expected the coffee girl he picked up to actually have a brain and just as foolishly, she had assumed that the charming act he put on at the Cafe wasn't just an act. If he had any sort of manners, he would frequent a different coffee shop from now on after they parted ways.   
  
Just when she thought her evening couldn't get worse, someone bumped into her chair from behind, hard. The wine she was sipping--she needed something to dull the pain of sitting across from West Virginia's biggest asshole--splattered onto her lap. Typical. Dabbing at her pants with a napkin, she wondered with rare optimism if this was her out.   
  
"I'm so sorry about that," she heard from behind her. She paused in her ministrations to pass judgment. Now kneeling before her with napkins proferred in tribute was a large blond man with a suitably apologetic look on his face. When their eyes met, his expression quickly brightened. How dare he.   
  
"Fancy seeing you here," came the tired come on. Really, guy? She was clearly on a date. An awful one, but still. "I hope I'm not interrupting." She gave him points for confidence.   
  
"Thanks," she accepted the napkins with a grimace. Maybe he had seen her before at the Cafe. Plenty of customers felt like they knew her and attempted conversation outside of work. This guy was out of luck, though; she was maxed out on polite, stilted small talk tonight.   
  
Blondie took a seat at their table, to her date's ire. Normally she would object to this kind of rudeness, but given her date's behavior for the past 40 minutes, she was going to see where this went.   
  
"Excuse me," her date sputtered.   
  
"Ian, right?" The stranger held out a hand affably. "I'm Steve." When her date merely wrinkled his nose at Steve's hand in distaste, he dropped it to grab a bread stick. There was something familiar about the guy, but Darcy couldn't quite place him.   
  
Her date shot her an accusing look. "Who's Ian?" With a haughty tug on his jacket lapel, he icily informed their guest, "My name is Brent."  
  
This gave Blondie pause. He drummed his fingers on the table once, mulling this over. "Maybe I should go find Jane. Back at the lab?" That sheepish tone was really familiar.   
  
She shook out of it. "Who's Jane?" Better question. "Who are you?"   
  
The guy actually looked a little irked. Brent looked annoyed and disgusted, so nothing new there. "I'm Steve," Blondie ground out slowly, jaw clenching in frustration. He turned to face her, looking at her intently. "You're Darcy. And you need to find Dr. Jane Foster."   
  
Across the table, she heard Brent snort. "Foster? That nut job in the physics department?" Darcy couldn't pull her gaze from _Steve's_ to spare him a glance, however.   
  
Steve didn't bother responding to him. "Jane Foster. Astrophysics. Trust me." And for some reason, she wanted to.   
  
He rose from the table, and left with a solemn, "I'll see you again, Darcy.  
  
Ignoring Brent's hissed warnings to sit down and get back here, Darcy ran after him. "Wait!" she yelled. Ignoring every horror movie life lesson she'd learned, she followed him into the alley behind the restaurant.   
  
He spun to face her and lifted his hand in greeting. Or farewell? "Foster," he said clearly. His tone was confident and commanding. How did she ever think him sheepish? With that thought, it finally clicked in her head why he seemed familiar.   
  
"You were in my apartment. I failed that class because of you. You tried to steal my bread!" her volume rose with each accusation.   
  
He just chuckled and shook his head. And with a flash of red light, he was gone. 


	4. His Cheeks were Like Roses, His Nose Like a Cherry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third time's the charm, right?

Puente Antiguo, New Mexico  
June 27, 2011

Meeting Dr. Foster took a bit of effort. The lady didn't answer her emails or pick up her phone. When Darcy called around the department, she discovered that no assistant had worked for her longer than half a semester and she was currently managing without. That prompted her to trek out to the science department to speak with the elusive doctor in person. 

Darcy was surprised to discover that the infamous astrophysicist was so young and approachable, if a bit distracted. Assembling an internship that would benefit both parties was short work. Darcy was short on science credits and Dr. Foster--call me Jane, she had said--was short on intern applicants. 

When Jane initially mentioned a trip to New Mexico, Darcy had been wary. What if Steve popped by Culver looking for them? But as their budget only covered enough for 3 weeks, she figured it would be alright. 

While the two bonded over many a night of stargazing and bad coffee, Darcy didn't think the timing was quite right to tell Jane the full details of what had drawn her to astrophysics and to Jane's lab in particular. She cautiously probed to see if Jane's contact list included anyone named Steve and exhausted both Jane's knowledge on and her own capacity to learn about the topic of space and time displacement. It was tricky to ask at first without seeming suspicious, but Jane loved the topic and was a born lecturer, so Darcy soaked in all she could in hopes of finding some natural occurrence similar to what she had seen on that fateful night. It wasn't until after they encountered Thor that Darcy fully disclosed to Jane about Steve and his tendency to drop in on her life. 

It had been weeks since Steve's last appearance. And although Jane had an open mind--made all the more open by the Thor landing--Darcy knew her boss was beginning to suspect Steve wasn't in fact real. 

Hell, Darcy was starting to suspect the same thing herself, when a red light flooded their workspace and brought back the crazy in her life. 

This time, she welcomed it. 

"Hi!" That wave was a touch too eager. Mellowing her approach by 30 percent, she hopped onto the table behind her and affected a more nonchalant tone. "Hey again." 

Jane looked on in wonder, spectrometer in hand, calculations likely already running through her head. Darcy wanted to crow in triumph, but mostly, she was just happy to see him again, when she wasn't groggy with sleep or plagued by a case of bad date. 

"I found Jane." She gestured to the wide-eyed scientist in triumph. "Jane, this is Steve," she said in her most convincing I'm not delusional voice. Onto the responsible stuff. "So, because we don't know how long these little visits of yours last, care to share any information that might be helpful? Like, what are you doing here? Also, who the heck are you? And lastly, why are you dripping all over the floor?" 

The guy was soaked from head to toe. Also, for someone who had treated her with such casual familiarity before, he was being kind of quiet. He glanced her way, but otherwise seemed to have trouble meeting her eyes. 

Jane clearly had her priorities straight. "Don't touch anything!" she warned in lieu of a greeting, clutching her spectrometer to her chest. If she could have shielded the rest of her equipment with her tiny body, she would have. 

"What she means to say is, 'can we offer you a towel?'" Darcy clarified in good cheer. Cocking her head, she added, "And maybe a mop? Also, you're kind of red. Are you ok?" 

Her assessment was correct; his ears and neck were all flushed. Maybe he was getting sick from being wet? He accepted the blanket Jane handed him with a quiet word of thanks but otherwise seemed oddly subdued. He had mentioned that first time in her apartment that they weren't "linear" . She and Jane had dissected that statement and surmised that he was a time traveler. Maybe he didn't know her yet? 

"I'm Darcy," she offered a bit more gently. "You know me, right?" 

That got his attention. "I know you," he declared, his gaze intense. Whoa, now who's getting all red?

"Uh, cool. Good to know." She cleared her throat. "So, care to share with the class any details about your travels? Maybe something that would make your time with us a little more memorable?" 

To her disappointment, he shook his head in denial. "Never really been our problem. But, you should try looking up Dr. Stephen Strange, if you can. He might be able to explain what's going on." 

Darcy shared a look with Jane, who shrugged back at her. The name didn't ring a bell, so he probably wasn't someone in the astrophysics community. She filed the name away for later and let out a drawn out," Okay. Could you explain to us what's going on? Because we have our guesses but we're still pretty clueless." 

He gave another shake of his head, this time accompanied by a wry smile. "Still trying to figure it out myself, sweetheart." And with that, he flashed away with the usual red light.


	5. Now Dash Away! Dash Away! Dash Away All!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were good days.

ETH Zurich Institute for Particle Physics and Astrophysics  
Zurich, Switzerland  
February 11, 2012

Steve Rogers could be a lot of fun.

The two of them was currently touring the Hönggerberg campus at ETH Zurich with the Astrophysics Vice Chair and her minions. Steve, who conveniently spoke German fluently, acted as translator.

Years ago, the current Astrophysics Department Chair, Dr. Erich Hauert, had very publicly derided Jane's work as the _fantastical ravings of a madwoman_ , making it impossible at the time for her to even consider applying for the appropriate grants to fund her research. He had personally led a smear campaign that nearly ruined her career. Now that her research concerning the convergence and Einstein Rosen bridges were near universally lauded, the same Chair magnanimously extended an invitation to Dr. Foster to join his esteemed colleagues and come enjoy what exciting opportunities his institution had to offer. The unspoken terms also included that she bring with her all her research and of course, the generous federal funding she had recently received.

Darcy didn't feel the strongly worded email that Jane had dictated declining their offer, F-bombs and all, was quite enough punishment for the years they had set her work back. It wasn't just Jane's honor she was defending; this was for science.

Luckily for her plan the pair was currently in Europe. Knowing her boss's disinterest in sightseeing in general, she informed Jane that she was taking a few personal days to travel, which wasn't technically a lie.

What was a lie was her assurance to Jane that she had indeed sent the scathing email--Jane had snickered so adorably at her own maliciousness, bless her pure soul. Darcy had not sent the email. What she had sent instead was a cordial acceptance of the invitation, her estimated arrival time, and some very reasonable requests for her visit if she wanted to actually entertain joining their staff.

The lying continued as she set foot upon ETH Zurich campus to meet with the Astrophysics Department and introduced herself as Dr. Jane Foster. She nearly panicked when the cabal of scientists introduced themselves in a flurry of German, but kept her cool long enough to excuse herself to the ladies' so that she could hyperventilate in peace.

In an act of divine providence, who should find her in the ladies' restroom at a premier university in Switzerland but her favorite time-traveling friend?

Naturally, when he found her to be rather distraught, he asked her what was the matter and if there was anything he could do to help. In a longshot move, she weakly asked if he was fluent in either German or French.

When he replied with an easy, "Both," she wasted no time in dragging him back to the sharks with her.

To the awaiting nerd troupe, she introduced him as her assistant, Mr. Darcy Lewis, who would be serving as translator for the tour. She gave him credit when he wasted no time falling into his new alias with ease.

Her attack was going to be limited to Hauert’s inner circle alone, those she had deemed from her personal research most deserving of her wrath. To all others, she granted temporary clemency until evidence could be discovered concerning their crimes.

Steve murmured translations to her quietly while conversing with the receiving scientists charmingly. Privately, she was super tickled whenever he responded to _Herr_ Lewis.

When the two were finally ushered into Dr. Hauert’s office, they found the man in question chortling over something a different gentleman had said. Said gentlemen rose and waited to be introduced.

Hauert pompously welcomed _Dr. Foster_ to his fine institution--not a word of greeting to Mr. Lewis, she noted with an inward sneer--and insisted that she come meet his esteemed guest--the gentleman at his left, she presumed.

He was the wealth management distributor for the Fondation MERAC, Jean-Marie Lourier. The name was all too familiar and Darcy had to grit her teeth as Hauert introduced him so as to keep her smile frozen in place. It had been his foundation that had denied Jane the coveted MERAC Prize, a grant she had duly deserved for her postdoctoral work in astrophysics. The grant had only been rescinded once Hauert and his minions started their defamation campaign. She damn near cracked a molar when Hauert expounded upon how deserving his researchers were and that if anyone deserved the MERAC Prize, it was sure to be someone he had overseen personally.

The MERAC representative, Lourier, waited patiently for Hauert to finish his posturing to greet her personally. Now, Darcy’s smile was genuine when he stepped forward to kiss her on either cheek.

“It is good to finally meet you, Dr. Foster,” Lourier said warmly in flawless English. When she returned the sentiment, Hauert could only stammer in German--Steve didn’t even need to translate this part--asking how they were already acquainted.

“If I may?” Lourier turned to her first in courtesy. She consented with a regal nod and inwardly cackled with manic glee. When he switched to German, Steve rapid translated right into her ear so she didn’t miss a word. “ _Herr Professor Doktor_ Hauert, it has come to our attention at the Fondation MERAC that there has been quite the egregious misappropriation of funding here at your institution, specifically under your oversight.”

Steve didn’t bother translating Hauert’s blustered excuses.

Lourier continued, poised and exact. “Included in the allegations against you include fraud, embezzlement, rampant plagiarism, and abuse of power. Your accusers are many and their testimonies are well-documented.”

Hauert turned a baleful eye upon her and Steve immediately stood at attention, returning his glare tenfold. Darcy couldn’t blame Hauert for caving under that stare; stronger men than he couldn’t hold their heads up against it.

Lourier didn’t miss a beat. “As you know, we are supervised by the Federal Department of Home Affairs. The FDHA Director has been alerted to your activities in full. You can expect a visit from him very soon. I suspect it will not be a pleasant one for you.”

Turning to her once more, Lourier switched to English and adopted a gentler tone. “I do hope you can forgive our oversight when we rescinded your grant, Dr. Foster. We are very excited by the work you are doing, and hope to be as supportive as possible in the future.” He straightened and resumed his business. “Now if you and your associate will excuse us, I must conduct a formal hearing with the accused.”

Darcy and Steve were promptly ushered out and she could still hear Hauert’s pleading as they walked away.

The group who had received them when they had arrived was understandably subdued as they walked them back to the entrance. Darcy was unconcerned, and dropped the pretense now that her nefarious plan had come to fruition.

“So who's going to break it to them that boss lady actually couldn't make it today?”

The Vice Chair cooly interjected with nary an accent, "We speak English."

Damnit. She turned panicked eyes to her partner in crime and yelled, “Run!”

Before she could make her getaway, the Vice Chair held up a hand in exasperation to halt her escape. “There is no need. Despite your rather chaotic methods, many of our faculty are glad for your visit, _Frau_ … Lewis?” She ventured a guess.

“That's me,” Darcy confirmed with a weak laugh.

“There are so many...wrongs that must be corrected,” the scientist confessed stiffly. “We will cooperate with the FDHA investigation in full. Please convey to Dr. Foster our sincerest apologies.”

And with that, Darcy considered her mission a complete success.

Before the red light could whisk him away, she raised a hand for him to high five in celebration. "See ya, _Herr_ Lewis."

And when his hand made contact with her own, she couldn’t quite explain the warmth that suffused her when he responded with a similarly cheeky, "See ya, _Frau_ Lewis."


	6. When They Meet with an Obstacle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were bad days, too.

Tromso, Norway  
May 7, 2013

Steve Rogers could be a real asshat. 

“I didn't mean that you did anything on purpose! All I'm sayin' is it's pretty odd how I keep jumpin' straight to you.” 

“Yes, tell me again, Captain America, how it's all my fault!” 

His jaw clenched. 

“That's right, my average sized brains were able to figure out your secret identity after I saw your face plastered all over BBC. Did you ever think that might have helped to know some more information about you?” 

“What good would it have done, huh? Were you going to walk right up to Avengers Tower and let ‘em know you know a time travelin’ version of me?” 

“Hey, just about anything could help! You know what is supremely unhelpful, though? The insinuation that I somehow did this to you.” 

He frowned at her mightily, and any other day, that look would be enough to fill her with instant remorse. But on this occasion, she was too hyped up with rage to be affected by his powers. 

“I told you, find Dr. Strange--”

“Dr. Strange is a douchebag neurosurgeon living in the Upper West Side! I told his secretary that I have stage 4 brain cancer and she put me on a 3 year waiting list to see him!” 

“What else am I supposed to tell you? It ain’t like I've been in this situation before.” 

“Yeah, well it sure doesn't help things to point the blame at me.” 

“I ain't blaming you. All I said was there must be some reason why all my jumps are connected to you.” 

“Hey, I ask myself that all the time. Why, me? Why does my life have to be placed on pause whenever you show up?” 

“I think it's about time for me to go. Maybe next jump you'll be a little more reasonable." 

"I wouldn't bet on it!" she yelled at his retreating figure.


	7. His dimples! How merry!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was always weird.

Pasadena, California  
November 9, 2013

Nothing could compare to this feeling.

She lay her head back in rapturous joy. And just when she thought it couldn't get any better, jets of pleasure renewed across her body.

"I love you," she called out in her delirium. She didn't expect a response, but in her euphoria, she felt it very important to voice her feelings.

She enjoyed the relaxed high that washed over her entire body, straight down to her toes. Lifting a foot, she let her eyes trail up her bare leg. Normally she wouldn't bask in being nude as much, but certain activities necessitated it. She brazenly splayed her limbs as far as they could reach, loving the stretch in her sore muscles.

But in a rare moment of truly awful timing, Steve Rogers had to disturb her bliss.

He dropped in on her, quite literally.

One moment she had been falling in love with a truly state-of-the-art luxury spa bath. It wasn't too long ago that she and Jane had been living out of the Pinz, bathing by wet wipe. Darcy never took opportunities like this for granted. But as she had been preparing to let this tub make an honest woman out of her, she hadn't noticed the telltale red glow that appeared right overheard.

Only his lightning quick reflexes kept him from crushing her. Steve angled his body last minute so her body didn't take any impact from his fall. There was no way he could have avoided the water, however, and his fall had the unfortunate consequence of ridding the tub of most of its water. _Displacement_ , her brain supplied helpfully. The bubbles that could have strategically shielded her naked body from his sight were very unstrategically on the floor. Maybe it would have been better if he had just crushed her.

Shrieking nonsense at him, she tried covering her bits with her hands but she had more than a fair handful. To stay or to get out? She slipped in the chaos and screamed _don't look don't look_ when Steve tried to help her up. He flailed about in the water, at first trying to assist her from slipping, then snatching his hands back like they were burned after she batted him away.

"This isnt… I didn't see…" he stammered futilely.

"Yes, you did! Yes, it is!" She didn't even know what she was saying anymore but by God was she going to yell it at a decibel high enough to trigger tinnitus in Steve's next ten jumps. "Get out get out get out!"

"I'm sorry!" He resorted to just covering his eyes, which made the prospect of emerging from the tub tricky, even for someone with his reflexes, but not impossible. He kept apologizing even as he scurried out of the bathroom. Inexplicably, she covered her own face in mortification and remained in the tub well after she heard the door slam behind him.


	8. He Spoke Not a Word, but Went Straight to His Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She tried to move on.

London, England  
December 5, 2013

She decided it was time to move on; there was a whole world out there that didn't have to do with her visitor. At first she busied herself with setting Jane up on dates; the past year and a half without Thor had been tough on her boss.

After Thor returned and took from her one of her most time consuming hobbies, Darcy thought she could try to move on by starting an actual relationship with Ian.

Moving on proved difficult.

There has been nothing quite like being in mortal danger to fuel her genuine feelings of gratitude for Ian into romance. It was certainly enough to keep her mind off her silly crush. But once the danger passed and the adrenaline wore off, there hadn't been much connecting her and Ian beyond a mutual respect and similar employment. And this was perfectly alright for many couples--certainly more than most couples shared, the two would often rationalize to themselves--but it wasn't enough for Darcy. Not when she had experienced what it was like to have feelings of like and respect and attraction and affection and excitement all for one person.

She clumsily explained as much to Ian, that it wasn't fair to him or any guy for that matter to not share the same abundance of feelings with another person. He understood and agreed, and when they parted amicably, and his hug didn’t give her the slightest pang of remorse, she knew they had made the right decision.

Just two hours later, Darcy found herself alone in her flat with a sudden longing for _something_. She was in the middle of rooting through the contents of her closet when she heard him.

"What are we looking for?"

She smiled up at him in greeting from her spot on the floor. "I'm not sure. Pass me that box?" She pointed to an unlabeled cardboard box on the top shelf.

He set it down before her and settled down right next to her. It was a tight squeeze, but she wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest. "Rough day?"

"You could say that." She opened up the box and made a face when she saw its contents--conference t-shirts. "I broke up with Ian," she explained.

Steve made a sympathetic noise and frowned. "I'm sorry. He took it hard?" He ventured a guess.

"Not so much," she responded easily. His frown deepened. "But I had a weird moment of loneliness just now.” Darcy waved her hand in the air vaguely. “It'll pass."

Steve took a long moment in quiet contemplation. “Were you with him because you were lonely or because you wanted to be with him?” He selected a different box to reorganize alongside her.

“Neither, I think. And that's awful.” Combing her fingers through her hair, she grimaced when they caught on a tangle. “He should've broken up with me a long time ago.” Scrunching her face to find the words, she confessed, “ I guess I was with him because I thought it was about time I had a boyfriend. And he was there. And we shared some interests and experiences. I thought it would be easy. I--you don't want to hear all this,” she broke off with a self-conscious laugh.

“I asked, didn't I?” He picked through another box. “If I'm bored, I'll just make the next jump.” He pretended to yelp when she swatted at him.

“I don't know what it was that I wanted with him. Like, marriage? I don't really think so. But I just knew that what we had wasn't it.”

He hummed thoughtfully as they both made a bigger mess of her closet than when they started. When the beginnings of a red glow started to fill the space, she joked, "Had enough, huh?"

He passed her a small bundle and grinned. "Never."

After watching him go, she inspected what he had found. It was her cats in boxes socks that her mom had given to her last Hanukkah. It never failed to make her feel better.


	9. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She just wanted a little peek.

Avengers Tower  
Manhattan, New York  
December 24, 2013

She just wanted a little peek. 

Apparently the Avengers had an annual holiday party. Darcy arrived as Thor's plus two; no one dared challenge her invitation as being unorthodox. Her role that evening wouldn’t be playing third wheel anyway. This mission was strictly reconnaissance. 

She didn't have to wait long for her target to show up. The man was punctual, if a little stiff at all the attention his entrance generated. Darcy smoothed down any static cling from her skirt, as did many other female onlookers, she noticed to her dismay. In fact, there were quite a few hopeful glances being cast Steve's way, and suddenly Darcy was stricken with self-consciousness. 

Every person to make their approach was more illustrious than the last. Not a woman among them was anything less than stunning. Not a man who wasn’t famous, super, or ridiculously wealthy. She was frozen at her table, filled with the very unfamiliar feeling of loneliness. Never before had she had to try to gain his attention. Due to the particulars of their situation, she was always at the very center of their own little universe. And now that she was back to being merely one of the hundreds of people vying for his attention, she felt like nothing. 

As he passed by her table, Darcy held her breath, silently willing him to look her way, to bump into her, to acknowledge that she was there and still special and still important to him. 

When he didn't spare her a glance, her heart plummeted. 

She didn't bother staying much longer at the party. After excusing herself to Jane and Thor, she left, having seen enough.


	10. And His Clothes Were All Tarnished with Ashes and Soot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reality can be unforgiving.

European Space Astronomy Centre  
Madrid, Spain  
January 4, 2014

Although she heard the familiar sound of Steve's entry behind her, Darcy kept her eyes glued to her computer screen. It was no matter that the words made little sense and there was a tension headache building in her temples; these notes weren't going to transcribe themselves.

"Darce?"

There was nothing quite as tensing an exercise like trying your hardest to appear relaxed. Rather than ignore him outright like a baby, looking like she was busy with work was the best buffer she could come up with; she was alright with ignoring him like a toddler. Steve didn't have to know that these notes were weeks old or that Jane had given her a couple of days off to decompress. Letting out a distracted grunt, she hoped he would take the hint and make himself scarce like Jane had. Her boss, Thor bless her, had the sense to differentiate between the times when Darcy needed a sounding board and those when _talking about it_ was the absolute _last_ thing she wanted to do. Darcy had the unfortunate habit of crying when she got mad, and she needed Steve far out of the splash zone lest he bear both witness and fault to her rage and humiliation.

Steve clearly didn't share Jane's good sense. "Hey, there," she heard from right behind her. As hard as she tried to feign a cool and detached exterior, her every muscle tensed when she felt his warm hand lay upon her shoulder.

Shrugging it off, she informed him, "Busy." She didn't need to look to know that his expression would be full of confused hurt. She prayed he wouldn't say those words that were guaranteed to push her tears right out. Before he could get a chance, she let out a curt, "I have to get these notes done now."

She kept her eyes trained on the ground even as he gently swiveled her chair around. If she looked into his eyes, she'd be done for.

He silently studied her for a moment and just before she could swivel her chair around right in his face, he knelt before her so he could meet her eyes. Out of shock her gaze immediately locked in on his and he smiled--not in triumph, but something softer, like relief.

"I'm sorry." His tone was so goddamn sincere. "Maybe the last time I was here we fought, but I'm sure that wherever I am I'm sorry about whatever I said or did to upset you."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes up so they wouldn't do something stupid, like mist up. "You don't even know what happened." She tried to twist her chair back around away from him.

His grip was firm. "You want to tell me about it?"

"There's nothing to tell. You didn't do anything. That's the problem," she muttered that last part, but it didn't escape Steve's hearing. When he waited for her to elaborate, she groaned in frustration into her hands and spun her chair away so she didn't have to face him.

Propping her elbows on the desk, Darcy buried her face into her hands. "I went to see you.” Her voice was a little muffled. "Like, present day you. The you who clearly doesn't know me." She swiveled halfway back to address him in profile. "And yes, through no fault of your own, you haven't met me yet, and yes, we were in a room filled with beautiful, interesting people!"

Steve's expression was carefully blank as he listened to her rant. She had to swivel away again. His reflection was still kind of visible on the monitor.

She drew in a deep breath." But you walked right past me. You were right next to me and you looked at me, but you didn't see me at all. And it reminded me," she had to pointedly raise her voice because it seemed he was going to interject. "That if it weren't for our special circumstance, that you would never _see_ me, not if I walked by you every single day."

She had to turn to face him one last time, and because she knew he would say something perfect and sweet that would make almost all the hurt go away, she put her hand over his mouth so she could finish. And because he was Steve, he let her.

"In what universe does someone like _you_ want to be with someone like _me_?" Her voice cracked a little at the end, and to compensate, she gave him a sad little smile.

He shook his head firmly, adamantly, even as her hand remained over his mouth, eyes intense and brow furrowed. It was then that Darcy was never more relieved to see the familiar red glow surround him.

"Goodbye, Steve," she whispered, heart breaking--broken--even as he shook his head again and again.


	11. As I Drew in My Head, and Was Turning Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath.

Massachusetts Institute of Technology  
Cambridge, Massachusetts  
January 10, 2014

Six days after she blew up at him, he returned. 

After she heard him land from the kitchen--hard this time--she gave a particularly vicious slice to her potato. Let him come. 

She filled her mixing bowl with three more sliced potatoes and swept away the peels into the trash. Still no Steve. Maybe he was hiding. Wiping her hands on a dish towel, she ventured over to get a better vantage point; she wanted to scope out his landing spot without having to be the first one to approach. 

She had to really angle her head, but what she saw drew her to his side in a flash. 

"Oh my God!" 

He was sprawled on the floor, his leg at the wrong angle, and the blood--there was so much of it and it was so so red. 

"Steve. Steve!" 

Was he breathing? She grabbed his wrist to feel for a pulse but she couldn't stop shaking enough to feel anything over her own thudding heartbeat. His eyes were shut but if she could just stop panicking, she could see his chest rise and fall ever so shallowly.

"Steve, please wake up. I'll call for help!"

Her phone. Where was her phone? 

She moved to find it in the kitchen when his hand grasped at the tail end of her sweater. 

"Steve?" Dropping back to her knees, she didn't know where to put her hands without causing him more pain. His eyes fluttered a few times and she could've cried with joy if she wasn't already crying in fear. 

"Darce," she faintly heard him rasp. 

"I'll get help. I'll call an ambulance." 

"Don't," he tried to say. Every breath seemed like an ordeal. 

"You're bleeding," she said dumbly. "I don't know what to do." 

"--'ll be fine." How? How was this fine? She wanted to yell. "Don't go," he kept muttering until the red light took him away. 

For three days, she kept waiting for him to appear, completely unscathed. She was ready for him to show--ready to laugh or run or apologize or God, even fight some more. 

He never showed up.


	12. Interlude 2

The Sanctum  
177A Bleeker St.  
New York City, New York  
December 17, 2014

Contacting Dr. Stephen Strange was both a test of her patience and resources. She seethed for ages when she finally discovered that his secret lair was in New York. Would it kill these superheroes to branch out a little, at least outside of the Tristate area? As she waited in the sitting room of the so-called New York Sanctum, she looked up property values on similar buildings on Redfin.

“Darcy Lewis?”

“That’s me.” Taking a second to slip her phone into her purse, she gaped when she him face to face for the first time. “You...gotta be kidding me.” She didn’t do the bitchy onceover thing often, but his getup warranted it. Gloves, cape and costume jewelry. Clearly his particular line of work didn't require going incognito.

He didn’t seem bothered by her appraisal. “Follow me. I’m Doctor Stephen Strange. There’s something that I think you should see.”

She stopped him. “Actually, I have something for you, too.” He waited curiously as Darcy rummaged deep in her pocket and held out her closed fist at eye level for his inspection. She uncurled her fingers, only to reveal her empty hand, palm up. When he gave her a quizzical look, she used it to deliver a sound slap across his mouth. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for _three goddamn years_. _Now_ you answer?”

He flexed his jar in irritation but otherwise didn’t look too surprised. He probably got slapped pretty regularly. “Yes, well, there have been more pressing matters I’ve had to deal with than a broken-hearted young co-ed.”

“You know, I think there’s something else for you in here,” she fished inside her pocket to dig out another slap. She was glad she was wearing her big rings, too.

Taking a step back and holding his hands up in placation, he offered an alternative. “Perhaps you can take a moment to examine the relic before engaging in any more violence.”

She grumbled but conceded.

The Sanctum was chock-full of magical goodies. She followed him as he led her past display after display of increasingly odd items.

They stopped before a harmless looking solitary red sphere. It wasn’t set in a crown amidst other gems or fashioned into the hilt of a dangerous weapon. But Darcy knew that shade of red. She had seen it countless times before and she knew with absolute certainty that this was the cause of both her greatest source of joy and current untended heartbreak.

“The Amulet of Oshtur,” Dr. Strange intoned from beside her, surveying the relic encased behind glass. “Oshtur was one of three elder gods who could travel and send people across the universe.” He paused to examine not the amulet, but Darcy’s expression very carefully. “It was rumored her powers included travel through time as well.”

“How do we use it?” She wasted no time. Steve could be dying and this amulet was the key to returning him safely to her--to home, she corrected herself.

Strange looked dubious. “It’s been dormant for decades. Texts indicate that it was whimsical, as was its mistress, but it has chosen no one for years.”

“If it’s been dormant, when was it activated to send Steve away?” Darcy shook her head and tried to clarify. “When was the last time Steve was here?”

His expression was grave. “To my knowledge, Steve Rogers has _never_ set foot in this Sanctum, nor any of the Sanctums worldwide.”

“That’s impossible. He has to have had contact with this _thing_ in order to have made all those jumps!” Her brain was starting to hurt when the glow from the amulet--supposedly, formerly dormant--drew her gaze toward it.

“Miss Lewis,” Dr. Strange tried to warn. But she only had eyes for the amulet. She was transfixed; what had once appeared dull and lifeless was now fathomless in its depth. And from within, she felt more than she heard a voice--a woman’s voice, whispering, laughing, beckoning.

After what could have been seconds or hours, she came to her senses. Dr. Strange was shaking her, she realized. “What happened?” she asked, still coming out of her dazed state.

“I think the circuit should now be complete.” Whatever he saw in her seemed to satisfy him and he looked relieved.

She ventured a glance at the amulet; it was back to being dull and dead and otherwise inert once again. “What does that mean?” Raising a hand to interrupt, she instructed, “Very plainly, in layman’s terms.”

“It means,” he over enunciated as though she was particularly dim, “that you have completed Steve Rogers’ trial.” After a beat, he added, “Or began it. We will likely have more answers in a matter of days.” With a sardonic quirk of his brow, he shrugged, “Time.”

Darcy let out a breath to the count of five. She wouldn’t yell. She wouldn’t yell. “Where. Is. Steve? Why am I here?” She seethed.

He no longer appeared concerned in the faintest. Nodding as though this was an everyday occurrence, Strange said, “I have a rendezvous scheduled with a particular SHIELD agent in several days. Perhaps it would be best that Steve Rogers be present that day as well.”

Present-day Steve? Pre-time-travel Steve who didn’t know her? She panicked only a little. “Should I be here? Should I come back? What day?”

His mouth twisted and eyed her clenched fists warily. "Perhaps it would be best if I have you contact the agent directly."


	13. Down the Chimney St. Nicholas Came with a Bound

The Sanctum, Hospital Wing  
177A Bleeker St.  
New York City, New York  
December 26, 2014

Steve woke up in a bed, for the first time in what seemed like many years. And that realization confused him. Had he been on an extended mission? Something felt off. There was a stiffness to his muscles that he was unaccustomed to--that he hadn’t felt, really, since 1940. Something brushed at his subconscious--some faint memory or insistent need to remember--only to dissipate; it was probably just a dream. Looking around, he noted he was in the infirmary, although he couldn’t hear the usual hospital noises. A private facility, then? He was still trying to pinpoint his whereabouts and the events leading to his admission until he heard a familiar throat clear.

“I am forever surprised by the lengths you will go to in order to avoid being set up.” Seated at his bedside, Natasha shaved dainty bites off an apple with a knife.

His injuries felt a lot worse all of a sudden. "It does seem like I'm too beat up for that holiday party, don't it?" He shook his head with regret.

“You missed the party. It is December 26,” she informed him flatly.

“That's rotten luck.” He tried to keep from sounding too cheerful.

"You'll be happy to hear that you'll make a full recovery in time for the New Year’s Eve get together.” She took another crisp bite and he groaned. “Smaller scale, far more intimate.”

"Is that right?"

"Doctor Strange made sure to heal your injuries in full. It's likely any remaining disorientation should pass right away." Naturally, she looked unconcerned. Equally innocent was her question. “Care to fill me in on what happened?”

Steve didn’t have to feign ignorance. “You tell me. Last I know, I was following you to meet with Dr. Strange. Next thing, I'm lying here feeling like I've been run over by a truck.”

She contemplatively tapped the flat side of her blade to her top lip. “Strange did mention a possible side effect. Apparently the mortal mind isn't meant to come into communion with their mystic principalities.” At his blank look, she waved it away as non-essential information. “God of space and time manipulation,” was her simple explanation. “The memory loss could just be your brain trying to protect itself.”

His brain did feel real heavy. “Where is Doctor Strange, by the way?”

She snorted. “He said something about being a doctor, not a nurse. He left the caretaking to me now that his job was done.”

“Sounds like a real swell guy.”

She neither agreed nor disagreed. Studying him for a moment, she asked, apropos of nothing, “Does the name Jane Foster mean anything to you?”

He had heard the name come up a time or two. “That's Thor's girl, right? She have something to do with all this?”

“They're on a break,” Natasha supplied, ignoring his other question. With what he knew to be careful nonchalance, she asked, “How about Darcy Lewis?”

He shook his head when he drew a blank. “Sorry.”


	14. And I Laughed when I Saw Him, in Spite of Myself

Avengers Tower  
Manhattan, New York City  
December 31, 2014

Once Steve left the Sanctum to resume his life, it wasn't relief that filled him. Instead, it felt like there was something he was missing, something important that he had lost. It was just on the tip of his tongue, at the forefront of his mind, only to escape him if he thought too long on it.

He went on auto-pilot; missions, paperwork, even this party that Nat had roped him into attending, were just motions that he was going through until he found...what was it?

He let out a sigh of frustration and braced himself for what was to come. When he exited the elevator, he wasn’t surprised to find Natasha waiting for him. “Getting some last paperwork done?” she drawled.

“I'm sorry I'm late, but I didn't want to come.”

She glanced askance--that rare tell made him curious--and mused, “Maybe things will look up tonight.”

What did she have planned? “I don’t know, Nat,” he felt the sudden urge to be honest, if only that would let him leave sooner. “Lately, I just feel like I’m looking…” he didn’t know how to end that sentence.

“For?” Natasha prompted, eyes calculating. She definitely had some plot underway and Steve prepared himself for the worst.

“Okay, Nat. Unleash the hounds.” When she merely blinked placidly at him, he said, exasperated, “Lay her on me. Whoever this mystery date you have in store.”

There was something almost disappointed in her gaze, but she recovered quickly. “Find her yourself,” she inclined her head toward the throng of people in the great room. Terrific.

“This is the world’s worst Christmas present,” he groused.

As he stalked off, he heard her low voice call out, “Remember you said that.”

Steve made his way to the center of the room. Best to keep an eye on all possible exit routes. He scanned the room a couple times and tried to avoid making eye contact with interested looking parties. Trying to think positively of his fellow Avenger, he told himself that Nat wouldn’t have sent him to suffer needlessly. She had his best interests at heart and she had been awfully cryptic for some--

There was a woman--and in the back of his mind, there was a whisper, the faintest memory of a laugh. She was standing against a wall, arms folded across her chest. No drink in hand, she looked about warily and seemed as uncomfortable as he felt. Dark hair, glasses, red lips--lips curved up in triumph, lips pursed in anger, lips that had been on more than one occasion so close to his own, so close to getting all that he wanted, if only one of them was bold enough to make a--

He didn’t hesitate a second longer and crossed the room to pull her into his arms where she belonged.

She gasped, as did many onlookers, but Steve couldn’t hear them, couldn’t see them, only had eyes for the woman he held, who he had almost lost. He pressed his nose into her hair and couldn’t believe that for a moment he had forgotten how good she smelled.

“Steve?” Her voice trembled and he wanted to kiss away her every worry until she was smiling and laughing again, like she should be.

He licked his lips, suddenly nervous and took a deep breath. He had written the words in his head so long ago. It was what he had wanted to say to her even before she had confessed her fears to him. “ _This_ is the one,” he started, only to clear his throat when she raised her eyebrows at him quizzically. He continued the words he had longed to tell her. “ _This_ is the universe where I want to be with someone _exactly_ like you. And I hope to God that it's also the one where _you_ want to be with a fella like me, cuz I swear, Darce, if it isn’t, I'll--”

She cut off his rambling with a kiss and he felt complete for the first time in days.

This was it--that feeling that had eluded him. It was here; it was her. He was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to McGregorsWench who moderated this event!
> 
> The prompt was:  
> "Doctor Strange said to be careful with that ornament. It's got some kind of spell on it."
> 
> I hope this ushered in a nice new year, Em_Jaye!
> 
> I tried to arrange the dates around Collider's MCU Timeline Explained but the dates are just estimates themselves based on the release dates of the movies. I mean, wouldn't Darcy's clothes in Thor be too hot for New Mexico in June? So I pulled several things up by a year or two to suit my purposes.
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading!
> 
> On my to do list is the final chapter for my other fic: Brokering Intergalactic Peace is a Process.  
> If you care for a gift fic or want to send me an anonymous prompt, hit me up in the comments or come find me on Tumblr : Stillsixpm


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